Just Stay with Me
by Griselda Banks
Summary: Oneshot. When Edward comes to the end of himself, when he thinks there's no hope left, when he gives up on everything...he turns to his brother. No pairings, plzkthnxbai.


**Author's Note: This is the latest (and probably final) installment of my "suicide series," if you will (_A Hundred Ways to Say You're My Brother_ Chapter 5 - "And I Won't Let Go" - "Feel Like This Forever"). As ever, you don't need to know any of the previous bits of the story to understand this one. When I'd finished off the last oneshot, I realized fairly quickly that there was only one thing missing in this string of suicidal hurt/comfort fics: how Al plays into it. **

_When stars fall, and ground breaks_

_You're sinking 'cause it's too late_

_I'm right here_

_I'm right here_

_Just stay with me!_

_- "Hard to Believe" by David Hodges_

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_For my Reki_

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When Alphonse opened the door and found Mustang and Edward sitting together on the sofa, laughing – their eyes bloodshot and the trash can filled with a new layer of tissues, but laughing – he knew everything was going to be okay. And it killed him that he had to be reassured of that, but he focused his attention on his brother instead.

He tried not to stare, because he could tell from the way Edward moved that he didn't want to be reminded of the events of that afternoon. But Alphonse couldn't help shooting furtive glances at him while everyone else ate the warm dishes Gracia had provided. Edward had hardly eaten a bite all day, so he wolfed down the food as though determined to eat it all himself. Mustang, Hawkeye, and Hughes stuck around as well, making a small party out of it. They were probably just as hungry as their young friend, after all the stress and adrenaline.

Alphonse felt a rush of affection towards all three of them. They had answered his frantic phone call, they had dropped everything they were doing and come over to help, and now they sat around eating and chatting as though everything was normal. During the car ride from the Hugheses' house back to the dorms, Alphonse had fretted more and more about the awkwardness he was sure would fall between him and his brother. But they had managed to dispel it all, and if Edward's smiles were wan and his conversation sparse, at least some warmth had returned to his cheeks, some light to his eyes.

Of course, they couldn't stay forever. Hughes took the empty casserole dishes back home, while Hawkeye marched Mustang back to the office to finish up their neglected work. On his way out, Mustang did something Alphonse had never seen him do before: He put a hand on Edward's left shoulder, squeezed gently, then continued on his way as though he did it every day. Alphonse caught the grateful, if surprised, look Edward shot at the colonel's receding back.

Then they were alone.

A brief silence stretched between the brothers, in which Edward stared at the table and Alphonse stared out the window. Finally, Alphonse heaved himself to his feet and said softly, "You look exhausted. You should probably get ready for bed."

"Right." Edward still didn't meet his gaze, but got up immediately and started shuffling around in his nightly routine.

Alphonse settled quietly in the corner, pretending to read his little notebook but really watching his brother's every move. Edward had done the same things every night for years, and especially now that he didn't have to get ready for bed himself, Alphonse had them all memorized. Yet somehow, as he watched Edward carelessly shucking his clothes and leaving them in a pile on the floor while he pulled on his pajamas, every movement seemed precious now. The jingle of his belt buckle, the sudden flash of scars and barely-healed wounds as he pulled off his shirt, the way he flipped his hair back when he untangled his braid... He moved more slowly and with less impatience than he usually did, but he was still the same Edward Elric he had always been. That was heartening.

And Alphonse's nonexistent heart swelled to painful proportions when Edward stepped into their small bathroom, leaving the door ajar. Alphonse could see him as he leaned over the sink, brushing his teeth, a trail of toothpaste curling down from his lip just like always. When Edward had enclosed himself in that bathroom in the morning, he had shut Alphonse out completely. He'd teetered on the brink of drowning himself in the shower, and hadn't even allowed Alphonse to guess what was troubling him so much. And the last time Edward had disappeared into a bathroom...Alphonse had burst in on him to find the brother he always looked up to, always depended on, kneeling on the floor with a knife inches away from his throat. That Edward allowed him to see everything he was doing now meant that he wasn't shutting his little brother out anymore.

Feeling more cheerful than he had all day, Alphonse heaved himself to his feet and set about straightening up after his brother, as he always did. He straightened Edward's shoes, folded his clothes, and draped his red coat over the back of a chair. Then he straightened the covers on Edward's bed, plumped up his pillow, and turned down the sheet in a neat triangle just like their mother used to do for them.

He had just sat down again when he heard the bathroom light click off, and looked up. Edward's head hung down so his long hair shielded his face, but Alphonse hazarded a guess that it was because he was tired, rather than because he was ashamed. Shuffling with mismatched steps, Edward approached his bed and looked down at it for a moment. Normally, though Alphonse often straightened up after him, Edward would ignore it or mutter a thanks as he fell into bed, impatiently tugging his blanket upwards as though demanding sleep to come quickly so he could wake up and get to work again.

This time, he just gazed at the neatly-made bed, then turned to address Alphonse's toes. "Can I sleep...with you tonight?"

He looked so small, standing there in his old pajamas and fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. "Of course you can."

Alphonse wasn't foolish enough, after all this time, to think that his brother could sleep comfortably on a steel bed, so he insisted on pulling the covers off Edward's bed and tucking his pillow against one spiky steel knee. Edward settled into Alphonse's enormous lap, allowing him to tuck in the edges of the blanket. When they had both fallen still, Alphonse almost thought he could feel his heart pounding. It had been a long time since they had done this. Too long.

Then Edward brushed a strand of hair out of the way and looked directly into Alphonse's eyes for the first time that day. "I'm sorry, brother," he said softly.

If it had been possible, Alphonse's eyes would have slowly filled with tears. It wasn't often that Edward called him by that title, but whenever he did, it came straight from the heart. It meant Edward had tried everything he could think of, but had found the world lacking. So now the only thing he could do was return to his brother, his one last refuge.

"That's okay. But...Brother...why?"

He hadn't wanted it to come out like that, but Edward only sighed and closed his eyes momentarily. Alphonse was shocked at how old he looked, as he let his face sag with exhaustion. "We've been at this for _years,_ and we never seem to get any closer to the finish line. And...I think I'm the reason. I always feel like I'm holding you back, like you'd be better off without me. So..."

When he trailed off uncomfortably, Alphonse sighed. "You really are an idiot, you know," he said gently. "That would cause way more problems than it would solve. But...just...promise you'll _tell_ me next time?"

At this, Edward looked back, and the old fire was back in his eyes at last. "There won't _be_ a next time...but I promise."

Alphonse smiled deep inside, and he could tell from the answering smile that Edward saw it. For several moments more, the two were silent, but slowly discomfort appeared on Edward's face. Alphonse was about to suggest he move back to his own bed when Edward murmured, "Um...I never said thanks. For...stopping me. Out of everyone..._you_ were the one who saw me. And...even though I don't deserve it...you still..."

He bit his lip and averted his eyes, sure signs he was about to cry.

Alphonse carefully placed an enormous hand against Edward's cheek and forced them to look into each other's eyes again. "Brother, you need to hear something I'm going to say." He paused a moment, gathering his thoughts, then continued. "In the end, it doesn't matter to me what you do. Whether you win or fail...whether you make good choices or bad ones... Even if it really _was_ your fault, or if there was some way it was impossible for me to get my body back, or even if you gave up completely...I would still love you with everything I've got. That's why I stopped you in the first place. 'Cause you're my brother."

A damp spot was growing on Alphonse's leather gauntlet. Edward raised a hand and closed it around that damp hand. He pressed it gently against his cheek, more firmly than Alphonse's cautious touch, and he smiled. As though that touch was the most precious thing in the world. As though the only lifeline he needed was that cold, empty hand, and he clung to it with everything he had.

Edward drifted off to sleep, a gentle smile curling his lips. Alphonse quietly reached up over his head and switched off the light.


End file.
